I drink my whole cup of coffee in the morning now. All of it. Before I even touch email. And when I go to bed at night – I sleep. I don’t lie there staring at the ceiling running through the list of things I didn’t cross off my to-do list. I spend entire days with my granddaughter, and my mind doesn’t drift back to work. I said yes to an art class my daughter invited me to – the kind of thing I would have said no to for twenty years. Every single day looks different now. My whole life’s been rearranged.
Truth bomb: I have ADHD. I’m not blushing, you’re blushing.
I’m saying it out loud for the first time because over half the clients I’ve worked with have told me they suspected the same thing about themselves. Usually when they’re explaining what a typical day looks like. There’s a relief in hearing someone else name the thing you’ve been secretly managing alone. I want to be that for someone today.
Google and Understood.org recently mapped out how AI can support exactly that. And if you want the full guide, it’s worth the read.
My mind still wanders. That hasn’t changed. It wanders in meetings, mid-task, mid-sentence sometimes. What’s changed is the cost of it. It used to mean twenty minutes gone finding my way back to wherever I was, and another twenty carrying the anxiety of the twenty I’d just lost. Now when I wander, I hand it to Gemini wherever I am, and I come back intact. Same brain. Far lower tax rate.
I used to hold my breath when I opened my inbox, or procrastinate it entirely for hours. Missed opportunities. Missed deadlines. My daily briefing fixed that. One notification prioritized, and I’m done deciding what needs me and what doesn’t.
My bookkeeping hat has never fit right. Not because I’m not capable. But because numbers on a page make my eyes roll back. I’d let it pile up because starting felt too heavy. Workspace Studio runs it in the background now: invoices filed, expenses tracked, my inbox on autopilot. There’s nothing left to avoid.
I can sit in a meeting and be present in it, because Gemini is taking my notes. It sends them to me without me asking. I’m not holding two conversations at once anymore – the one in the room and the one in my head reminding me not to forget anything.
New clients enjoy a premium onboarding experience while I sleep. Consistent, professional, repeatable, with real data. Something I can measure and improve instead of reinvent it every time. Ava works the front of my site full-time, so a conversation with a prospect doesn’t have to wait for me to be awake or available.
Gemini is now in the rooms I used to dread and put off: the admin console, the parts of the business that felt like chores with no reward. I don’t dread them anymore. And when I need a clean place to think, I’m not falling down the Gmail rabbit hole seven tabs deep. I’m in one window. One conversation. That’s it.
I’ve burned out twice in twenty-five years of running my own businesses. Neither time was pretty. Fall down seven times, get back up eight. But I want to be clear about something, because you might hear this and think I’ve found a way to cram even more work in the hours I got back. It was never my goal. I am not interested in getting back on the hamster wheel, just faster this time.
So what do I do with the hours I got back? Put in a garden. From scratch. All of it. Clearing the land, burning the brush, building something with my hands that has nothing to do with a client or receivable. It’s taking a Wednesday off in the middle of a work week to help my daughter move, with a clear conscience. I mean, I haven’t gone soft. It’s not in my DNA. I still get up at 6am. The energy didn’t disappear; I just stopped being owned by my work.
I take every single weekend off now. And Friday afternoons too. That might be the single biggest gift I’ve given myself in twenty-five years of doing this alone. It’s not a reward for finishing the week. It’s just mine. To do the things I was born to do. And I look forward to it the way you look forward to something that’s yours.
None of this fixed my ADHD. Not a single bit of it. But I have stopped fighting my own mind long enough to build real things. Consistently and on time. If any of this sounds familiar: the tab-switching, the inbox dread, the twenty minutes you lose finding your way back – I’m here to talk about it. My door’s open.
Links:
Google Workspace Blog — “How AI can help make work more neuro-inclusive” — Google Workspace + Understood.org, published July 21, 2026
Understood.org / Google PDF Guide — “A Neurodiversity Guide to Effective Work” — referenced directly inside the blog post above, so the pairing is already Google-sanctioned
